


Reasons to Drink

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at their journey through the eyes of a bottle: her joys, his sorrows. SyaoranXSakura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time: Oto

I was watching the Tsubasa movie this morning (and it’s way too short for my liking) and drawing some of the characters (not at all very well, but the way) and just had this pop into my head. I’m gifted with ideas sometimes and I was planning on ignoring it, but it won’t leave me be. 

So here I am… writing completely unrelated one-shots in the middle of Forced Silence.

*sigh*

I’m a bad, bad child. 

Oh, well.

X X X

The first time Sakura got drunk, it was in Oto Country. 

Fai bought liquor from Caldina’s bar, Clover, and a little taste led to another little sip and then before she knew it, she finished an entire bottle by herself. It wasn’t completely her fault. Fai, like a good drinking partner, filled her glass the second sunlight could be seen between the rim and liquor line. Sakura, like the innocent child she was, thought she had to keep drinking so long as her glass was full.

The snowball effect was passionately unstoppable.

Syaoran, after emptying his glass in one long swallow, then escaped out the front door and made himself comfortable on the stoop. Kurogane went and sat with him to escape the shower of flowers coming off of Fai. Sakura wasn’t sure what Kurogane and Syaoran were talking about outside, but Syaoran came charging in, fired up and excited. He picked up a soup ladle and wielded it like a deadly blade.

“YOU ARE COMPLETELY DRUNK!” Kurogane, as always, the daddy of the group, hollered at the lot of them. “AND YOU GUYS, DON’T YOU DARE DRINK ANOTHER DROP!”

Syaoran swung the ladle very purposefully, asking Kurogane questions and trying out different forms. The ladle gleamed dully.

“Let’s make ears with our handkerchiefs,” Fai said. “Meow, meow.”

Sakura couldn’t help but join in. Her glass was forgotten in her lap, spilling on the waitress’s kimono she was wearing. “Meow-meow-meow,” she said in her beautiful sing-song voice. 

Mokona Modoki was at her elbow, purring and rubbing against her ribs. The little white manjuu cake pulled off being a cat far better than the two drunken humans. 

“GET TO BED! ALL OF YOU! NOW!!!!!!!”

…

Syaoran may have been a lightweight when it came to drinking, but he was a twig with a high metabolism and the effects of the liquor were soon fading from his system. He trailed uselessly after Kurogane while the ninja hauled Fai off the couch and deposited him into his bed with a huff. 

Sakura was especially slippery. She constantly ran away and, much to Kurogane and Syaoran’s distress, the more she ran, the less clothing she wore. She was peeling up the stairs, laughing and giggling, and unwinding her long obi as she went so that it ran down the stairs like an escaping waterfall. By the time she had escaped them to hurtle down the other staircase, exploding into the café in a fit of giggling, she was dressed in only the pale petal-pink slip tied loosely around her waist.

“Princess!” Syaoran shouted. “Sakura-hime!”

Finally, Kurogane elected to just sit on the sofa and let the kid chase the kitty. 

Syaoran was nothing if not determined, especially when it came to Sakura.

It took another half an hour for Sakura, in only her petal-pink slip now roped securely by Syaoran’s quick and careful hands, to become sufficiently exhausted enough to allow herself to be caught. She collapsed in a heap at Kurogane’s feet, smiling and laughing. Syaoran slumped down only a few feet behind her. 

They were both panting, thin chests heaving. A single bead of sweat rolled down Syaoran’s temple and hung under his chin.

“Alright, get to bed, both of you,” Kurogane said sternly. 

Sakura collapsed on her side, clutching her ribs, still giggling between meows.

It occurred to Kurogane then how bad it could have been if Fai wasn’t hurt. Then, he would have had to chase the magician all over like the kid had had to chase the princess.

Hey, everything was hitsuzen.

…

Syaoran’s head was beginning to throb, beating blood at the back of his eyes. He lifted Sakura gently, cradling her warm body against his chest. Her long pale leg slid out of her parted slip, shining with sweat in the moonlight streaming through the window. The swell of her pale cleavage also peaked out through the low neck of her slip, taunting Syaoran.   
He balanced her carefully and opened the door to her bedroom. Her bed was rumpled and unmade, showing the efforts he and Kurogane had made to get her into it. She always wrestled out of the blankets and went vaulting through the café again and again. 

Syaoran pulled back the sheets and laid her down in her bed. 

Her arms were still wrapped securely around his neck, holding tightly. She pulled him against her so suddenly that he had to brace himself on his elbows on either side of her ribs to keep from falling on top of her slender body.

“Syaoran-kun?” she whispered.

“Sakura-hime, you’re going to have to let go,” he said gently and tried to pull her arms down from around his neck. 

She only tightened her grip, tangling a few fingers through his hair. “No, you’re going to leave,” she whispered.

“Sakura-hime, I’m never going to leave you. I’ll always be here for you,” Syaoran told her gently.

She buried her face in the side of his neck. “Why?”

“Because…” Syaoran hesitated. The liquor was pulsing through his bloodstream, making his head swim. He couldn’t remember what he had told her the first time she asked him that. “Because you are a very important person to me,” he said finally.

Sakura’s grip loosened. Her lips pressed against his throat, suddenly not so innocently. “I… don’t remember,” she whispered. “Do you…?”

He nodded and his amber eyes burned. He had to close them to keep the tears at bay. “Yes,” he whispered. “They’re my most precious and wonderful memories.”

“What about the memories we’re making now…?”

“Hime, you’re drunk. You won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

“Will you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know… maybe…? Maybe not.” He actually found himself hoping he didn’t.

“Why…?”

Syaoran blinked wearily and lowered his forehead to rest on her shoulder. She smelled of liquor, chocolate and cream from the café, and cherry blossoms. Beneath that, the desert sun shone from inside her. Her skin was warm, golden-honey-colored, and so satin-soft. 

“Why what, hime?”

“Why don’t I remember anything about you…?”

Her grip on him was slackening. She was falling asleep. Syaoran’s body was getting heavy, too. More and more of his chest was beginning to press against hers. She shifted to accommodate him, but he knelt next to the bed. Her fingers gripped his hair, working through the locks gently. 

His head swam with the effects of the liquor. The truth and his sorrow poured out in place of the lies he had spent so many sleepless nights thinking of.

“Because I paid a price and it can never be returned…” he whispered. 

Yuuko’s power pressed in on him. He felt it weighing on Sakura’s chest, ready to strike the information from her memory. Then, suddenly, it just fell back. 

He repeated it, crushing his own hopes. “A fair price can never be returned…”

Sakura sighed blissfully. Her breath was warm and moist on his throat.

He was able to pull away and gaze at her. Her skin glowed in the moonlight.

“Syaoran-kun…?”

“Yes, hime.”

“How do I know you…?” she whispered, pleaded. Her jade-green eyes fluttered open, beautiful and glazed.

A single cold tear ran down his cheek. “Maybe from your dreams,” he whispered.

A smiled curved her lips. “I could have dreamed you,” she murmured and cupped his face in her hands. “How else could you have been so perfect, so beautiful?”

Syaoran’s smile was exhausted and sad. 

Sakura tugged him closer, sat up, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I don’t remember,” she whispered. “Is this a dream?”

“Maybe…”

“Oh.”

Sakura pulled away from him, taking her warmth from him. It was all Syaoran could do not to reach for her again. He could barely fight the tears. Sakura cupped his face, tilted it so she could gaze down on him. His skin was clear and honey-colored, like her own, and his amber eyes glowed in the dark. 

She hesitated only a moment before she kissed his cheek. His eyes had closed in bliss when she pulled back to look at him again. His fingers gripped warm and gently on her thighs, not touching her skin directly. His heat passed through her shift.

She kissed his closed eyes, his nose, his brow, his cheeks. She feathered her lips all along his jaw, gentle, careful, cautious. She kissed his throat, his slow even pulse.

When she let go of him, he collapsed against the mattress. He was dead asleep, lost in his own dreams. His breath was deep and even, slow and quiet. 

Sakura laid down, curling around his head to it fit neatly beneath her ribs. She stroked his hair, so soft and warm, like fine chocolate beneath her fingers. 

Moonlight streamed across them in rays.

Sakura fell asleep in moments, listening to Syaoran’s deep breathing and lost in the fuzz of alcohol.

…

Kurogane found the kid in Sakura’s room, slumped at her bedside. Her hand was resting on his head, twisted in his hair. Sighing heavily and sadly, he separated the pair and gently lifted Syaoran from the floor. 

Whatever had happened, the alcohol would mask it as nothing. Maybe not even remembered at all.

So, Kurogane took it upon himself to clean up. 

If Syaoran woke at his princess’s side and she couldn’t remember what had happed the night before, he would only fall back into the slump of depression that had held him before the drinking began. If either of them did remember little snippets, they would think it was a dream.

Dreams were sometimes less painful than the truth.

…

Syaoran’s only remember putting the princess into her bed. After that, everything was a blank. Not a dream, not a nightmare, not anything, nothing…

And that was exactly what Sakura thought it had been when she roused to find customers waiting in the café the next morning. Fai was still asleep and Syaoran and Kurogane were already gone. She assumed the taste of Syaoran’s skin on her lips was nothing to remember, just a fantasy of her drunk and exhausted mind, but it wasn’t…

X X X

I plan on making this a three-shot. One chapter for every time the gang was drunk, so just chill.

Yes, I am going to get back to work on Forced Silence, fear not. 

I forget nothing!

*mutters* Well, except for schoolwork. *cough cough*

Questions, comments, concerns?


	2. The Second Time: Shara

Alright.   
I hope everyone notices the rearrangement of chapters. I realized that the country of Shara came BEFORE Piffle so I did lots of rearranging to make everything sequential. Grr!   
Sorry for the confusion, but I think everyone can figure it out.

X X X

The second time, only Syaoran’s promise to Kurogane kept him from drowning his embarrassment in the depths of the bottle. He gripped the beautiful paper folding screen with white knuckles. Sakura, lost in the plentiful folds of a petal-pink and deep ruby kimono, looked nervously from him to the tatami room packed with the performers of the Yuuka-Ku. Trays were laid out in rows with mats and cushion around each like mountains. The beautiful women in wild arrays of colorful kimonos and costumes were already drinking heavily. The room was full of laughter and mirth, but everyone was awaiting Suzuran and her introduction of Syaoran. Syaoran, on the other hand, was dreading her arrival.

Suzuran, in an exquisite dress of palest gold with scalloped sleeves and a big dark ribbon tied around her middle, appeared through the folding screens. She was grinning from ear to ear, hair twisted up in two buns to keep it out of her face. The ribbons fluttered at her ears. “Ladies, you were terrific!” She cheered.

A roar of applause and laughter rose up from the floor beyond the slightly raised platform. 

“Since we finally have a moonlit night, we’re here to celebrate a successful show!” She paused, smiling softly as she looked out over the crowd below her. The laughing smiling faces of her girls made her so happy.

Syaoran almost thought he squeaked away, but luck was not on his side.

“One more thing! This party is also to celebrate the coming to Yuuka-Ku of Syaoran and Sakura, our new guests!” She cheered and another roar of applause shook the room. “Alright, you two, come on in!” She said and whirled around to offer them her hand. Her smile was dazzling.

Syaoran tightened his grip on the folding screen and Sakura glanced worriedly from his cowering form to Suzuran and back again. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do now.  
Suzuran decided for her. “What’re you hiding for? Come on out!” She demanded and grabbed Syaoran by the shoulder of his outfit. She hauled him out, hand over hand, and trapped in the ungainly geta shoes, he was forced to follow her.

“Kyaaaaa!” 

Like Sakura, Syaoran was wearing a beautiful pink and red kimono patterned with flowers. A long heavy wig had been pinned to his head by a flowered wreath, giving him long braided pigtails that flowed down across his shoulders. His face was beat-red with embarrassment and he barely felt Sakura nervously gripping his long sleeve and touching his back.

Mokona bounced eagerly on his head. It was also done up with flowers. 

“It doesn’t matter what you wear outside or in the performance area, but while you’re in Yuuka-Ku, you’ll have to go as a woman,” Suzuran was saying. “It’s all been decided.” She said and grinned wider. 

“Kyaaaaa! How cute?!” 

Then, Syaoran was glomped by a group of drunk and giggling women. 

“Syaoran’s popular with the ladies!” Mokona said. Suzuran and Karen giggled at the young man’s plight while Sakura looked nervously on. She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to get in the middle of the brawl.

That was when the first tremor shook the ground. 

Sake cups and bottles rattled on the trays. A tea pot hung over the fire jumped and hissed. Trays clattered and rattled. The woman clutched Syaoran in fear and panic now.   
Sakura clutched Mokona to her chest and Syaoran’s amber eyes connected with her jade-colored ones even through the crowded room. A feeling of safety fell over Sakura.

“An earthquake?!” 

“Owner!” Karen shouted over the din, gathering two young girls with long dark hair under the plentiful folds of her cloak.

“This earthquake… Those creeps from the Jinja will blame it on the Ashura Statue. They’ll probably come here trying to smash it!” Suzuran exclaimed.

But the tremor subsided, and aside from other tremors, the party continued without incident…

Or with little incident…

…

At first, Syaoran tried heartily to stop Sakura from drinking, but he was always restrained by the other women in the troupe. Sakura, Mokona, and Suzuran threw back cup after cup of alcohol until Sakura was a mess of meows and all smiles. Syaoran finally accepted a sip of sake, just to soothe his ragged nerves. In a few hours, almost everyone had passed out. Karen and Suzuran were busily sorting the younger girls out of heaps of limbs and fabric and herding them off to their proper rooms. Older girls were left in heaps periodically around the room.

Tatami mats were soft and forgiving to those that fell asleep on them. 

The only parts of them that would hurt in the morning would be from the hangover. 

And so, the chase began.

…

Syaoran, exhausted from chasing Sakura around and around the interior of Yuuka-Ku, finally sat down on the steps of the performance area to take a short breather. Sakura was giggling profusely, ducked down behind a pile of stage props. She thought he couldn’t see her, but he could. He would resume the chase once she left his line of sight.

He was tired. His eyes started to slide closed, but he snapped them open after what felt like seconds. Apparently, it had been longer than that. 

Sakura’s kimono was spread out in the middle of the floor.

Startled, he jerked upright.

Small hands dug into his shoulders and pulled him backwards. The back of his head knocked into her shoulder and he was suddenly looking up at her face through a curtain of her pale tresses. Her face was set in a firm determined line.

For a moment, he could only stare at her. His voice was lost somewhere in his throat.

She was touching him.

Her small warm hands kneaded deep into the muscles of his shoulders and back. The kinks and knots washed away, sending a soothing wonderful wave of warmth through his tired body. The massage felt wonderful. She worked her slender fingers up through his chocolate locks. 

He almost fell asleep against her. He felt lost, floating, like he was in a trance.

Then, her hands scooped under the collar of his kimono and pulled it down from his shoulders. Her hands rubbed his shoulders, working down the back of his kimono. Her skin was velvet-soft and so warm. Her touch was gentle.

Soon, he was dozing lightly again. He may have fallen asleep, but a second sensation roused him from his daze.

Her lips were on the back of his neck, the lightest kiss. She was timid, barely touching him. Maybe she was getting tired, too. Then, he felt her lips part and she drew a hesitant lick on the salty skin of his neck. The alcohol was warm and heavy in his blood. His reaction time was slow.

Then, he jerked away from her with a start.

“Sakura-hime?!”

Her eyes were closed, but they slowly slid open. Her gaze burned him. 

Sorrow loomed in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t like it…?”

Syaoran blinked and hurriedly adjusted the shoulders of the kimono, but, try as he might, he couldn’t get it to stay closed as it had before. 

“What?” was all he managed and it sounded choked.

Sakura stared at him. Her lips were damp and slightly parted. “You don’t like me,” she said flatly and lowered her outstretched hands to her lap.

The tension was seeping back into Syaoran’s shoulders. “Princess,” he said finally. “You’re drunk. Let’s get you to bed.” He shrugged his shoulders out of the kimono, leaving most of his chest and flat stomach exposed. “Princess?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to sleep, Syaoran-kun.”

“Do you have bad dreams?” Syaoran whispered, concerned as always for her.

She shook her head again. “I dream of you, most of the time, Syaoran-kun,” she confessed.

His heart was heavy.

“I dream that you’re in Clow with me, growing up with me,” she murmured. Then, she looked at him with absolute seriousness. “I dream that I love you.”

His breath got lost somewhere in his throat and he almost collapsed. 

Sakura looked away. “I look at you sometimes and my body gets really hot. I can’t think straight,” she whispered.

He took a step towards her and then another. Finally, he was close enough to touch her and he cautiously cupped her face. She met his eyes without hesitation, but he didn’t have anything to say. Sakura closed her eyes softly, lashes lying against her cheeks. 

She looked so beautiful.

Syaoran wet his lips to speak, to tell her that she should go to bed, but the words never came.

She kissed him. Her lips were feather-soft and warm.

Their kiss lasted only a second because then Sakura slumped into sleep. He wondered if she thought that she had dreamed that, if everything she had told him was a dream.  
Her kiss lingered on his lips. It tasted vaguely of sweet sake and of something completely her. 

His head spun and he was suddenly very tired.

Then, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his naked chest. She nuzzled into him, inhaling deeply, and smiled faintly in her sleep. Her bare shoulders fit neatly under his ribs and her heat flowed into his body. She smelled wonderful, teased his nose.

Syaoran scooped up her kimono and tucked it into the shoulder of his where it hung around his hips. He lifted her higher in his arms to that her head lolled against his shoulder.  
He carried her to her room and laid her down on the bed. He was folding her kimono to lie next to her bed for the next day when she stirred.

“Syaoran?” She whispered.

“Yes, hime?”

“Sa-ku-ra,” she said as if it was a habit.

He closed his eyes and a bubble of longing lodged in his throat. “Of course, Sakura,” he whispered.

“Kiss me, please,” she murmured. “Syaoran, kiss me.”

He shook his head weakly. “You’re drunk. I have to go,” he said. “Early day tomorrow…”

“Oh,” she said and her disappointment was tangible.

Part of him wished she would ask him to kiss her again. Part of him didn’t. 

She wet her lips and shifted on the bed. He stood there for a moment, not looking at her, just listening to the sounds of her. She was breathing deeply and evenly, too deeply, too evenly. She was faking.

“Syaoran?”

“Yes, Sakura…?”

She didn’t ask again.

…

The next morning, she didn’t remember a thing. He asked her several times, on the off chance that maybe she did, but her eyes were always big and innocent and empty of anything but companionable care for him.

If she ever did remember him or even the night she asked him to kiss her, he would do so with no hesitation. 

But she had to love him.

Sakura had to love him.

Otherwise, he would just be a memory in her dreams and the pain he would feel would be akin to his worst nightmares.

For her, he would do anything, even dress like a woman just to stay at her side. 

He would give her anything she wanted from him. 

She could take from him all she wanted.

He would deny her only one thing.

And that was himself.

Only until she really loved him.

If she ever did…

X X X

Poor Syaoran. He always gets the crap. I swear, that guy is nice and wonderful to a fault. (Stupid Yuuko, making him give Sakura up.) 

I’m still so sick and I’m falling asleep at the computer here, so bear with me. Updates may be slow because I have no BRAIN POWER, but I’m doing my best here. Go me!

*Fai fake whistles*

Infinity is the last chapter for this story so stay tuned.


	3. The Third Time: Piffle

Nothing much to say!

X X X

The third time Sakura got drunk, she hadn’t done it intentionally.

They had all made it through the preliminary for the race in Piffle World, in which the prize was one of her feathers. They were celebrating and Mokono Modoki spiked her drink, which she had thought was lemonade until she found herself all smiles and impossibly daring.

“It was like a rollercoaster! Mokona loves to fly!”

“Rollercoaster?” Sakura asked. Her mind felt a little fuzzy and she absently wondered why.

“It zwooms up and then zwooms down again!”

“Zwooms?”

“And there are some that go zwoom in a loop!” And Mokona twirled to demonstrate her point.

“Zwoom!” Sakura cheered.

No one was really paying any attention to her. The guys were all sipping their drinks and taking about something that appeared to be very important. The space between Syaoran’s brows was crunched up like it did when he was thinking very hard or worried. Kurogane’s mouth was set grimly and Fai wore that ever-present smile though it was strained.

“So you had to concentrate on that,” Fai was saying. 

Syaoran nodded. 

“How about you Sakura-chan?” He asked her. 

Oh, they were talking about the race and all the accidents with the dragonflies. 

“There were those bright sparkly things!” She said and smiled. Mokona hung off her shoulder, pulling the fabric down.

“Bright sparkly?” Syaoran asked. All the color had drained from his face. He looked worried, not the same worry that crinkled his brow, but worried. 

“Bright sparkly!” Sakura repeated and giggled. “They sparkled inside the smoke! They flew, borne on the wind! And we went flying, zwoom, right through the middle of them!” She leaped to her feet, arms spread wide. 

Mokona bounced on the table beside her. “Zwoom!”

Sakura grabbed Mokona’s little paws, scooped her up, and they spun in a circle. They both were giggling madly, flowers flying off of them. “Zwoom! Zwoom!” Sakura and Mokona cheered.

“P-princess…?!”

Kurogane began to have an ominous premonition and Fai took a step towards Sakura and Mokona’s discarded drinks.

“Oh, yeah! We have to go flying!” Sakura shouted.

“We gotta fly!” Mokona agreed.

Syaoran was a small protesting figure in the background. “Princess!” He took off after her once she leaped up and made a dash for the door. 

Fai sniffed the drink. “You know, there’s alcohol in this drink,” he said finally.

“WHAT?!” Kurogane snapped. “I told you not to slip alcohol to the kid and the princess.”

“I didn’t. It’s in Mokona’s drink too. My guess is Mokona’s the culprit,” Fai said and pictured the little creature pouring gin into the unsuspecting children’s glasses.

Then, from outside, a big calamity arose.

“No, you can’t do this, princess!”

“Come on, Syaoran-kun! Fly with me!”

“Waaaah!”

Then, there was a huge and painful sounding crash. 

Kurogane leaped from his chair. “Keep it in control, you little brat!” He growled and stomped outside to see what the commotion was about.

“It’s time for daddy to take charge! Come home soon!” Fai said and waved.

…

Syaoran had raced outside after Sakura and Mokona. The princess had already fit her goggles over her jade-green eyes and was clambering into her Winged Egg-Go with Mokona hanging on the back of her dress. The little creature was giggling hysterically and Sakura was clearly not thinking straight.

“No, you can’t do this, princess!” Syaoran protested and clambered up the wing of her dragonfly. 

“Come on, Syaoran-kun! Fly with me!” She demanded.

She grabbed him around the waist, hauling him up into her lap. Syaoran floundered and wound up sprawled across her knees, one arm caught between her thighs. Mokona leaped down on his head and gripped onto his hair. Sakura started the engine and heaved up on the controls. The dragonfly wobbled into the air, tipped sharply, and plunged straight down.

“Waaaah!”

The crash resonated throughout the skies. 

Syaoran was launched form the craft and sent spilling across the ground. He heard Kurogane yell something, but was busy seeing stars. Sakura, on the other hand, was completely unperturbed. She shoved her hair and goggled out of her face, sat down again, squeezed Mokona between her knees, and heaved the dragonfly into the air again.

Kurogane saw the kid sprawled on the concrete, grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and slammed him down on his feet. “Go stop her!” The ninja shouted as Fai appeared in the doorway behind him. 

The magician was getting a kick out of this.

“Princess!” Syaoran shouted once the stars and stripes faded from his vision. He raced to his own dragonfly and got it quickly into the air. Then, he was streaking across the sky after his princess, following the trail of her laughter. 

…

The only thing Fai and Kurogane could do was go back inside and finish the bottle. They couldn’t do much to help Syaoran wrestle Sakura from the skies. She didn’t listen to anyone when she was drunk and Syaoran was nothing if not persistent. 

“I do hope Sakura-chan’s alright,” Fai said.

Kurogane just grunted.

…

Syaoran shouted Sakura’s name again, but she appeared intent on ignoring him. She was giggling and wobbling through the clear sky and hadn’t crashed since he had been carelessly tossed across her knees. But, it was getting dark. The searchlights customary to Piffle World were flicking on one by one, starting on the west side of the city, and fanning through the twilight sky. A few stars began to peek through the clouds, though Syaoran knew none of them.

It was times like this when he missed Clow Country the most. The sky here was unfamiliar.

“Sakura-hime!” Syaoran shouted again. “Please, it’s getting dark. Let’s go back!”

Her giggling quieted and her dragonfly tipped suddenly to the side. 

“Hime!” He shouted, afraid she had fallen asleep at the controls. 

But the craft banked and zipped past him. Sakura’s face was set in very serious lines, staring straight ahead, with Mokona appearing to be sound asleep in her lap. Syaoran rocketed after them, pulling up even with the princess’s dragonfly. She didn’t even look at him.

Now, came the hard part. 

Sakura had to land.

…

There was a bandage the size of Yuuko’s treasure collection on Sakura’s Winged Egg-Go. The landing had not been very graceful, but Syaoran had set down easily and neatly beside her before clambering to her side. Sakura was leaning back in the seat, head tilted up at the sky. 

The light was fanned across her beautiful face. Syaoran would have given anything for her to remember him at that moment.

“Syaoran-kun,” she murmured.

He sat down on the wing of her craft and pulled the key from the ignition, just in case. 

“Yes, princess?”

“I don’t want to go in, yet.”

“Alright,” he said softly and followed her gaze.

The sky was beautiful and clear. Stars winked in and out of focus according to the flash of lights from the city below. Twilight was pale and blue-green at the edges of the sky. The world was a truly stunning and marvelous thing to behold. 

Syaoran found his eyes wandering to Sakura’s glowing white face. Her eyes were closed.

“Hime, have you fallen asleep?” 

Jade-green orbs fluttered open and turned briefly in his direction. “Syaoran-kun, do you know any of these stars?” She asked finally.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“This sky is different than where you’re from?”

Syaoran swallowed the lump in his throat. He remember Sakura once asking him about the stars and the skies of the different countries he visited with her father. That was a memory she would never remember, all because he was in it.

Flashback:

_Sakura had snuck out again, but she was fourteen now and it wasn’t such a big deal anymore. Touya always knew she was safe with the brat. As much as he hated Syaoran, he knew the brat would defend his sister to the death. So when he poked his long nose into her room and found her bed still neatly made and her cloak gone from her closet, he didn’t worry too greatly._

_Sakura sneaked through Clow’s empty streets, keeping her telltale white and pink cloak from giving her away by keeping to the shadows. Finally, she reached Syaoran’s house. He was sitting on the steps, just gazing up at the sky._

_The stars always seemed close enough to touch in the desert even when a dry thunder storm rumbled and flashed in the distance._

_“Syaoran,” Sakura whispered._

_He started, head whipping in her direction, but he smiled. “Did you sneak out again?”_

_“Yup,” she said and sat down on the steps next to him. “What are you looking at?”_

_“The stars. I always miss the sky when I’m away for a long time,” he confessed. “I often just sit out here when I get back.”_

_“Just for the stars?”_

_He grinned. “I also know that you’ll come creeping out from the shadows. I wait for you, too,” he said and looked up at the sky again._

_“But you only miss the stars?”_

_Syaoran looked at her. He was so handsome: the curve of his jaw, strong chin, fine bones, and soft lips. His eyes glowed in the dark, shadows by hair dark in the faint starlight. The shadows played on his face. “Sakura, is something wrong?”_

_She smiled. “No,” she said._

_How silly! Of course he missed her. They were best friends._

_“Tell me some of the stars you like especially.”_

_He leaned close to her, lining his arm with the curve of her cheek to point out certain stars easier. The scent and warmth of him was enough to sufficiently distract her, but she did remember one star up until the day she lost all her precious memories of Syaoran._

_He had named it for her._

End flashback.

“Hime?” Syaoran repeated, but she was already asleep. 

Her breath was deep and even. 

Smiling to himself, he scoop her up in his arms and carried her inside. Kurogane and Fai were waiting up for them, but Syaoran took Sakura to her room without a word to either of them. Fai had probably been watching out the window.

The magician was a snoop.

They both followed him to her room.

“She’s pretty nimble for a drunk,” Kurogane remarked. “And smashed, she’s even faster than when she’s sober.”

Fai chuckled. “She really is giving it all she has.”

“I’m going to bed!” Kurogane snapped, turning to exit the room. 

“You too, Syaoran-kun, get some rest,” Fai said. “When we win the race tomorrow, we’re going to celebrate again!” 

Syaoran deadpanned. “Right,” he said.

Then, Fai was gone, too.

Gently and timidly, Syaoran pulled off the princess’s shoes and socks and laid them on the floor. Then, he reached up under her dress, unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, and peeled them down her legs. Her hips were sharp against his knuckles and the skin on her stomach was taut and warm. She moaned in her sleep and all the blood rushed to his face. He almost stopped there and let her sleep in her clothes, but she didn’t look very comfortable so he dug up enough courage to continue. 

He unbuttoned the front of her dress and peeled it off her shoulders. She flopped back against the bed in just her transparent white t-shirt and panties. Her skin glowed and was flushed with healthy color and her lips were curved into a faint smile. 

Syaoran folded her clothes and laid them with her shoes before covering her neatly.

He turned to lean and there was a tug on the back of his shirt.

Sakura was gripping his shirt in her sleep, smiling softly.

He blushed and gently pulled her hand off his shirt. He stood at her bedside for a long time, just holding her hand in his own, marveling at the softness of her skin. Then, finally, he laid her hand at her side and stepped quickly back from the bed, lest she reach for him again. 

“Good night,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.” Then, he closed the door quietly.

…

“Let’s see, we have to buy the liquor,” Sakura was saying to Mokona. Syaoran’s head was still swimming from the abusive tumble he had taken the night before chasing after Sakura, but he was hiding it, of course. 

“Sakura is having so much fun! Is it because Sakura made it into the final?” Mokona asked.

“That’s part of the reason,” Sakura said. “But another reason, is this great dream I had!” She was so happy, she positively glowed.

Syaoran swallowed. Surely she didn’t remember… 

“What kind of dream?” Mokona asked.

“Let’s see. Somebody was holding my hand,” Sakura began.

Syaoran lurched in his seat, but it thankful didn’t show through in his driving. He tucked himself low over the steering wheel to hide the blush coloring his face. Sakura didn’t notice his reaction and continued talking to Mokona. 

“I don’t really remember it, but I’m sure it was really good dream! And when I woke up, I felt so happy!” Sakura said and her face glowed with a smile reminiscent of the ones she used to give Syaoran all the time back in Clow, before all this.

Sakura was unaware that it was Syaoran who had been holding her hand last night. She thought it was a dream, just a fantasy of her drunk and exhausted mind.

Dreams were sometimes less painful than the truth.

X X X

Change three to a four-shot. I want to get all the way into Infinity’s drinking scenes. 

Questions, comments, concerns?


	4. The Fourth Time: Piffle

Change that four-shot to a five-shot. 

If anyone can tell me all the times Syaoran and Sakura were drinking up to the Infinity arc so I don’t have to keep changing the number I’ll give you a cookie!

X X X  
The fourth time Sakura hadn’t been drinking. She had won the race, but an unexpected twist had forced her to take the feather into her body before she wanted to so she was dead-asleep on the couch. She slept through the entire party and remembered nothing of the night’s events save speaking briefly with Tomoyo before sleep wrapped her up in its arms. But that was just as well. Surely, Syaoran would not wish her to remember what happened.

Hell, he didn’t remember himself…

…

Syaoran wasn’t sure when or how he started drinking. Mokona or Fai or maybe even Nokoru, the handsome blonde who had given Sakura the rose, may have handed him something. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he soon found his mind muddled and distant.

Syaoran had distance himself from the party early on, sitting in the window with his gloves tucked under his thigh. The glass in his bare hands was cold and wet. Water rolled down the side, making ring on his pants. He was watching Sakura where she slumbered on the sofa, oblivious to everything around her. She looked so very peaceful, just lying there.

Nokoru approached him and took a seat in the window just next to where Syaoran had made himself comfortable. “Everyone seems to be having a fine time,” he said and smiled dazzlingly.

“They sure are,” Syaoran agreed.

Nokoru stared at Syaoran. His blue eyes looked through the young man, taking in the age and pain in the amber eyes set in such a young face. Syaoran didn’t see Nokoru looking at him; he was still watching Sakura as she shifted in her sleep. 

“The journey hasn’t been painful for you?” Nokoru asked finally. 

Syaoran aged before his eyes. The young man drew his shoulders in and ducked his head. Those amber eyes looked so old, ancient, in pain. They had seen so much and given up things that he should have loved. Then, the alcohol pushed through the gloom and set a smile on his fine features.

“It was a decision I made,” Syaoran said. He continued watching the party. “And… I’ve learned about things I never dreamed would ever exist. And I’m learning the sword.” Then, he turned to Nokoru and beamed. 

Nokoru had a feeling suddenly that Syaoran was no longer seeing him and he was proven correct when Syaoran grinned even wider.

“Right, Kurogane-san?” He leaped up, gripping his gloves firmly in both hands. “I almost forgot! I have to put in today’s practice!” He lashed out with the gloves, remarking to a nonexistent Kurogane all the while. “Kurogane-san, Hien feels as light as a feather today!”

“What an interesting drunken personality,” Nokoru commented and pulled his video camera from his coat pocket. He put the lens into focus and trained it on the practicing Syaoran.

…

It was late in the night and almost everyone else was passed out or asleep. Shougo and Primera were still sitting up playing a drinking game, but the end was in sight. Primera couldn’t sit up or say her own name anymore. Nokoru was passed out in a heap with Akira and Suoh. Fai was sprawled out with Mokona, mumbling and meowing in their sleep. Kurogane and Tomoyo, the only ones at the party with clear heads, had gone to bed a few hours ago (separately).

Staggering to his feet, Syaoran stumbled his way to where Sakura was stretched out on the sofa. The blanket had slipped down over her shoulder and she was smiling in her sleep. He wondered what she was dreaming about as he brushed some soft pale caramel-colored hair out of her face. She moaned and pressed her cheek into his palm.

“Sakura,” Syaoran whispered and rested his head on the side of the couch so he could look at her face without the world spinning around him. He twisted one of her longer locks of hair around his finger and breathed in the scent of her. She was blessedly clean of alcohol, fresh, wonderful. “I’d do anything for you, princess. Do you know that?” He continued. “I gave up everything, the only thing I love in this life to protect you and, knowing how it would make me feel now, I’d do it all again without hesitation. I’d give you my own life if it came down to that.”

His eyes drifted closed, but he snapped them open.

“Sakura, I wonder sometimes, if you might come to have the same relationship with me as we used to. The same beautiful soul is still inside you. It’s like we’ve only just met again, started all over, like when we were younger. Maybe, you may come to see me as just Syaoran, not Syaoran-kun, as this journey goes on,” he whispered. His breath stirred her hair. “Maybe you’ll fall in love with me…”

“That gives me hope, you know,” he confessed. “I used to be so afraid that without you, I’d be alone forever. I’d never be able to forget you, see you in the arms of another man. I’m weak and I’d be too jealous. I would never be able to love anyone else, but…” 

He smiled softly, gently. “I see it now. What we had is gone, but the future is still so bright ahead of us,” he murmured.

“I just wanted you to know that,” he whispered.

She shifted, pressing her lips to his knuckles, not in a kiss, just a faint brushing. She smiled and her mouth formed half his name.

He rose up onto his knees and gently took his knuckles from her mouth. She reached after him, her brow crinkling in confusion. He bent over her, almost tempted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t steal a kiss while she slept. Instead, he put the knuckles her lips had touched to his own lips and kissed them. 

It was almost as good.

His eyes softened and drifted closed. “I love you, Sakura,” he whispered and feathered his lips against her forehead. Then, he slumped down next to the couch and was wrapped safely in the arms of sleep within minutes.

…

The only sign of what had happened was Syaoran’s unconscious figure slumped next to the sofa where Sakura was sleeping the next morning, but people were crumpled all over the room so it wasn’t that much of a give-away.

Neither of them remembered anything which Sakura proved by shaking Syaoran so hard in a panic that his soul came out his mouth. She didn’t know about the drinking or about the almost-kiss, but then again, neither did he.

X X X

I wanted to let them kiss, but that would seem like Syaoran was taking advantage of Sakura while she was sleeping and he would never do that. I thought this was more realistic and less out of character.

Wow, was this chapter short.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	5. The Fifth Time: Infinity

Last chapter.

Some spoilers if you don’t know about all the clones.

X X X

Back in their grimy little flat, “Syaoran” was sitting on the arm of the sofa. His jacket was draped around his shoulders and his shirt was tossed in the dumpster outside. There had been too much blood on it to even think of saving the cloth. Mokona had helped him wrap his back and chest. The little creature, the only one that spoke to him kindly, was sitting on his thigh. Its little paws were wrapped around the buckle on his leg, staring up at him sadly.

The magician was in the princess’s room with her. They were murmuring quietly, speaking in hushed voices, like they did every dark night. 

“Syaoran” stared at the door as if he could see through it, as if he saw something terrible on the other side: something that took all hope from his heart.

Mokona wished there was something to do to take that pain from his face.

Kurogane’s boots tapped on the floor as he came in from the hallway outside. He had a brown bag under his arm and a few glasses in his free hand. He disappeared into the little kitchen and Mokona listened to him shuffling about. Then, the tap-tap of his footsteps on the tile approached as he came into the living room where “Syaoran” was sitting.

“Kurogane…” Mokona said desperately, but the ninja was already ahead of the little creature.

Kurogane offered “Syaoran” a glass, already full. “Here’s liquor. Can you drink it?” He asked, not gently, not roughly, just softly.

Syaoran’s throat flashed as he swallowed a bit nervously. This was the first time the older warrior had reached out to him, tried to accept him. He didn’t want to mess it up and send himself spinning back into the dark and lonely abyss. “Considering the other me was able to…” he began.

Kurogane eyes narrowed and he cut the kid off. “I asked if you could drink it,” he said firmly. His crimson eyes bored into Syaoran, waiting but not patiently.

Syaoran’s amber eyes widened, but he looked away, ashamed, of what he wasn’t sure. “I don’t know,” he whispered finally.

Kurogane pressed the full glass into his palm. It was cold, sending a shiver through Syaoran’s heated body. The ninja sat down heavily on the sofa next to Syaoran without a sound and screwed the top off the bottle in his hand. 

Mokona smiled. “Yep! Mokona wants to know what “Syaoran” is like when he drinks!” The little creature bounced onto Kurogane’s lap and grasped at the smooth sides of the bottle. “Let’s drink!”

“Are you trying to drink directly from the bottle,” Kurogane demanded and tried to shake the little creature off. 

“Of course! That’s exactly what Mokona is going to do!” 

Mokona cuddled the bottle cheerfully, suspended from Kurogane’s hand, while a vein ticked irritably in Kurogane’s forehead. 

“Give it back,” he snapped.

“Never!”

Syaoran looked on, envying their closeness and ease with each other. He had been alone, trapped in Fei-Wang’s clutches for so long, watching them wonderingly through the eye of his image. For years, it was all he had wanted just to be with them, to be able to talk to them, but the events in Acid Tokyo had made him an outsider where he may have been accepted. 

Kurogane was reaching out to him now as was Mokona.

For that he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Syaoran whispered.

Mokona didn’t hear, but Kurogane glanced quickly at him. The instant their eyes met, Syaoran felt a fragile bond form between them. He decided then that he would do everything he could to keep that bond of frail friendship. Maybe, in time, they would all accept him.

Not as “Syaoran”, but as Syaoran.

…

In her room, Sakura was lying face down on her bed. Fai was seated quietly at her side, listening to her body shaking with sobs and anguish. He wished there was something he could to for her, but what could he even say. 

“I know,” Sakura whispered. “I know that he isn’t Syaoran-kun. I’ve traveled through so many worlds with Syaoran-kun and although he may be the basis for the one I’m familiar with, I know in my head that they’re two different people!” She dug her fingers into the mattress.

“But… it’s still no good!” she sobbed. Her back, bare and white against the black silk of her dress, trembled.

“It isn’t just his face! His voice… and the way he moves… and those straight-forward eyes of his…” she whispered. Her leg ached where the brace dug into her skin through the thin black stocking. “As I find places that look alike, traits that are the same… as I find more and more of them, it’s just no good!” She bit her lip, tasting salt and sadness on her own skin. 

“I wonder if the one right in front of me isn’t Syaoran-kun after all,” Sakura murmured desperately. 

“Sakura-chan,” Fai whispered and gently touched her hand where it was exposed, fisted in the sheets. 

Then, they spoke of her wish, of her failing heart, of this Syaoran and the image. 

Sakura looked like a ghost, so white and sorrowful against the black of her clothing. Her injured leg was stretched out next to her, buckles of the brace shining dimly in the pale electric light outside. Her hair cast thin wispy shadows on her face, on her deep jade-green eyes. Her lips were as red as blood, but her face had lost all its healthy color. She looked sick, a lost and beautiful young corpse, a girl who had seen too much. 

Like the other Syaoran, wounded, sitting on the couch outside the room with Kurogane, she was dying inside. They needed each other, the comfort they could offer just from having lost and given up many things, but… Syaoran would never be selfish enough to force her to so much as look at him and Sakura would never be able to take his heart in her hands and break it. 

Fai could see the cameras watching them. It sent a shiver down his spine to know that others could see the agony between them.

He kissed the back of Sakura’s hand and whispered, “There may not be much time left though…”

He meant for all of them.

…

“This Syaoran is a fun drunk,” Mokona whispered to Kurogane as the ninja poured more alcohol into its glass. 

Syaoran was lying on the couch next to Kurogane. His jacket was hanging across his body, one arm limply draped over the edge of the couch to where his glass was settled on the floor. Some blood had seeped through the bandages wrapped around and around his upper body. His face was pale and his eyes moved restlessly beneath his lids. He was so thin, stretched out there on the worn stained sofa.

“But this Syaoran has too many worries, asleep so quickly,” Mokona continued, looking sadly over the young man’s sleeping figure.

“Well, with the princess’s attitude,” Kurogane said a bit scornfully.

“Sakura has had painful times with Syaoran gone and all,” Mokona said as if that was a good excuse for the way she had been treating this Syaoran.

“That isn’t the only thing,” Kurogane said, almost to himself. “Something is being hidden from us.”

“Fai is? Sakura is?”

“Both, I guess,” Kurogane confessed. He stared at the door to the princess’s room. “But the princess especially. Haven’t you noticed anything?” He asked and darkness shadowed his face.

“Nothing while Mokona is awake, but Mokona can’t tell when Mokona is asleep. Back when talking to Fai, Yuuko told Mokona to sleep and even when Mokona was asleep, Yuuko and Fai talked. So if Sakura talked to Yuuko while Mokona was asleep, then Mokona doesn’t know about it,” the little creature explained sadly. 

Kurogane felt a bubble of anger well up in his chest. This Syaoran and even Mokona thought it was their fault everything was falling apart. They were both ashamed and of nothing. Nothing was their fault, but they felt guilty anyway. 

Sometimes, people could be too kind. 

“Even so…” 

The voice was sudden, startling Mokona so that the creature leaped onto Kurogane’s hand where he was holding the bottle. It was clutching its glass in fear, but relaxed when Syaoran’s eyes fluttered weakly open. It unnerved Kurogane to know that the kid might have been listening to their conversation.

“I’ll protect her, no matter what…” Syaoran whispered.

Kurogane handed the bottle and his glass to Mokona and the creature balanced them in a precarious pile. He put his hand over Syaoran’s face, laid his fingers over the kid’s eyes, forcing them to slide closed. He sighed and shook his head sadly.

“Sleep.”

When he pulled his hand away, the kid was deeply asleep. 

Kurogane took the bottle back from Mokona, murmuring, “You sleep, too.”

“What about Kurogane?” 

He shook the bottle. Liquor sloshed around inside. “There’s still some left,” he explained.

“With Kurogane awake, everyone else can sleep and feel safe,” Mokona said with a glowing love for the dark ninja.

Kurogane humphed, uncomfortable admitting how deeply he cared for everyone around him. For the kid and the little white creature and the princess and even that annoying magician… They had all become precious to him and that’s why it pained him to see them all hurting.

Mokona busily made itself comfortable with Syaoran, shuffling under the collar of his jacket and tucking under the young man’s chin. Syaoran didn’t stir, but lifted his chin to accommodate the little creature’s warm body against his. Mokona was deeply asleep in moments. 

Kurogane looked down at them. 

The little creature was the same white as Syaoran’s pale skin, as the bandages. Even in sleep, Syaoran’s face was lined with worry and pain. 

The kid was suffering. 

Kurogane looked back toward the princess’s closed door.

“First one, now all of them,” he murmured and didn’t drink anymore.

…

It was late in the night when Sakura woke for no apparent reason. She was bothered by the lack of Mokona’s fuzzy little body in her bed with her, but the little creature often elected to sleep with the other Syaoran so that couldn’t have been what had woken her. 

Pale electric light streamed in through her window. The moon was blotted out by a cloudy stormy sky. She could hear cars passing and people fighting on the street below. The scent was garbage and the stink of too many people was heavy in the air, even inside the little flat. This world was far from peaceful, far from comfortable. 

Wide awake now, she decided to get a drink of water from the small kitchen and see if anyone else was having trouble sleeping tonight. Maybe whatever had wordlessly woken her had woken Fai or Kurogane, too. Part of her hoped Syaoran was asleep and part of her hoped he would be awake. 

She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her bed, or tried to. Her injured leg remained useless and limp at her side. She slid it into her brace and buckled it up tightly. It was cold on her skin and pinched her cruelly as she stood up and made a few hobbling steps around her room. The sound of her brace dragging on the floor unnerved her. She hated it.  
She pulled open her bedroom door quietly, easing it on its corroded creaky hinges. More pale electric light filled the living room. A small lamp had been left on in the corner. 

Kurogane and Fai’s doors were closed down the other hallway. She didn’t look at Syaoran’s. 

Dragging her weak injured leg, she hobbled to the kitchen and ran cold water in the sink. She splashed some on her face and filled a glass that had been left out on the sink. The bottom of it smelled of liquor, reminding her of better times. She couldn’t finish the glass of water and poured the rest down the drain. 

For a long time, she stood there. She stared at the water hanging like crystals in the sink, at the swirl of clear liquid in the bottom of the glass, at the bottle with a bit of liquor still left in it on the windowsill. 

Outside, a night bird screamed.

Sakura picked up the bottle and grabbed the glass out of the sink, shaking the water from it. She poured the remainder of the alcohol into the glass and angrily drank. The liquor burned in her throat. It was not the sweet liquor that she and Fai normally drank together, like they used to drink in Oto and Shara and Piffle. This was Kurogane’s liquor, sharp and burning in her chest like fire. 

Coughing, she gripped the rim of the sink and tried to catch her breath. 

Her elbow struck the bottle, knocked it to the floor. It shattered into millions of pieces.

Sobbing, Sakura sank down in the puddle of glass and water and liquor. Her leg spread out in front of her, brace shining. She put her face in her hands and sobbed.

Why?

Why did this happen?

Why was everything falling apart?

Quiet footsteps padded in the other room.

She recognized Syaoran’s silhouette when his shadow fell over her. The sight of him almost made her start sobbing anew.

“Sakura-hime,” he whispered. 

“I’m alright,” she said. The words to send him away were on the tip of her tongue, but he stepped into the kitchen. Unlike she, who wore her brace and shoes, his feet were bare. There was glass on the floor and Sakura’s compassion won out over her other emotions. “Don’t! I knocked over a bottle. There’s glass in here,” she told him quietly.

The light came on, momentarily blinding her.

Syaoran was a sad figure in the threshold. His chest was a mess of bandages from the chess battle today when he had struck the thorns. Their opponents had cheated and hurt him severely, but he never uttered word of complaint. He simply wrapped his wounds and continued. His hair was lank, hanging around his face in wisps of chocolate. The black pants with buckles and straps showed off the lean muscles of his legs and his thinness. His shoulders looked like the skulls of birds.

He looked like he could die in front of her at any second.

Sakura stared at the hint of exposed pale stomach and then met his beautiful amber eyes.

“Are you alright?” He murmured.

She nodded and reached above her head to grip the counter. Then, she heaved herself upright again. Her leg trembled beneath her. 

He took a step forward, hands almost outstretched to help her, and then stopped. She leaned heavily on the counter.

For a long moment, they stared at each other. Jade-green against honeyed-amber. 

Sakura felt her tongue dart out over her lips and then she felt her mouth speak. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Syaoran’s eyes widened and then darkened with sadness. He stepped into the kitchen, treading heedlessly on the broken glass. 

“Don’t!” Sakura protested and she wasn’t sure of exactly what she didn’t want him to do: walk on the glass, hurt himself, or come closer to her, touch her. 

He winced.

His hands were warm on her shoulders and he stared into her eyes for a long moment. Then, he carefully lifted her legs and cradled her body against him. She allowed him to hold her, carry her from the kitchen where her sorrows still burned in her throat. He opened the door to her room and carried her inside. 

There, he set her down on her bed and knelt in front of her. His fingers were warm and soft as he gently unbuckled her brace and slid it down her leg. He laid it aside and slid off her shoe next. Then, still kneeling at her feet, almost between her legs, he looked up at her.

She couldn’t look at him. Her eyes strayed to the window, to the piled grimy buildings outside and the hidden moon.

His voice was so quiet that she almost missed his words. “You don’t ever have to tell me you’re sorry,” he whispered and gently touched her knee. 

She looked at him. 

The electric light cast a faint shadow in his face so that it looked like bruise. She was reminded of how much she had hurt him, of the wound on his back, of everything he had done for her. She felt terrible anguish bottle up in her chest, wanting to come out as a cry, but she held it back. 

For the longest time, Syaoran remained there, kneeling in front of her, and she looked at him. Then, she slowly and cautiously cupped his face between her palms. His skin was satin-soft and heated with fever, most likely from that wound on his back. His eyes didn’t slide closed. He kept looking at her, holding her eyes, and she couldn’t look away.  
Gently, she threaded her fingers through his hair. The locks were as soft as silk and slightly tangled.

“Is this a dream?” She asked him quietly. 

“Maybe,” he whispered.

“What should I do…?”

His eyes continued boring into hers even as he pulled away from her fingers and stood up. Blood seeped around his feet. “Whatever you need to,” he murmured. “I’m always going to be here for you. I’ll always do what you ask of me, even at the greatest cost to myself.”

Sakura wet her lips. “Could you…?”

He gazed at her, into her. “It’s not me you want, is it?”

She hesitated. 

He didn’t say anything more.

Finally, she murmured, “You are him, aren’t you? You’re Syaoran-kun.”

He finally looked away, as if ashamed. “In a way,” he said softly. 

Sakura felt tears welling up in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. “Something terrible is going to happen here,” she confessed. “That’s why I have to stay.”

He nodded. “I have to go, Sakura,” he said.

A chord resonated deep in her heart. She almost stopped him, but couldn’t find her voice. By the time she managed to speak, he was already closing the door. 

“Wait…”

He stopped, eased the door open again, and their eyes met through the darkness.

“In Shara, I asked you for something,” she whispered. “Do you remember?”

“I always remember…”

“Will you do it now?”

Syaoran stepped into the room again and knelt in front of her. “I’m not him, Sakura. I’m just me,” he whispered.

She cupped his face. “I know, but… maybe you’re one in the same…”

Syaoran nodded.

Sakura’s eyes slid closed and she waited for the instant his lips would touch hers. His breath was light on her face, scented faintly of alcohol. 

Maybe he had been drinking with Kurogane. 

His lips touched the corner of her mouth lightly, feathered a kiss there. Sakura turned her chin to catch his lips, falling into him. The kiss set a fire in her stomach, heating her entire body. 

Her leg burned where the old healed wound was.

She sensed Syaoran move, pressing his hand over the pace in his thigh where the image had stabbed him.

They were both hurting, desperate, lost. 

Sakura kissed him harder, clutching her fingers in his hair. His hands touched her waist, held her gently, tenderly. 

This Syaoran had always been to considerate to her, stopping even while he was fighting the image at such a wound to himself. He had always sacrificed everything for her: his own freedom, his time, his vision, his body, everything.

It wasn’t fair for her to ask more of him, but she did because he would always give to her.

Something flashed through her head, a vision, a memory. The truth about her, about him. The image, the clones, both of them. She wasn’t meant to be with him. She could see that now. All she was doing was hurting him, hurting herself. She wasn’t meant for him, not this Syaoran. 

Tears leaked under her closed lids and ran down her cheeks.

Syaoran pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

Profound hurt touched his eyes again, drowned him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Then, he stood up and Sakura imagined she saw a scar on his leg burning white through his clothes. This time, she couldn’t call out to him.

She let him close the door and resolved not to hurt him anymore.

From now on, I’d like you to have your freedom…

She also resolved never to drink again.

X X X

And, drum roll please, we are finished! 

I had a little trouble ending this chapter. Grr.

Here we go. Very important author’s note:

First, drop a review and let me know what you think! Are the characters way out of character? Does everybody hate Sakura? Think I torture Syaoran way too much (but it’s because he’s so easy to be mean to, though I always make sure to give him a happy ending!)? Are permanently disgusted and can no longer even watch Tsubasa thanks to me? Loved it? Hated it? Are scared for life because of what happened to Syaoran? (Flames will be used to roast marshmallows and weenies!) Think I need to do more editing before I post chapters? Post to slow? Chapters are to short? To long? Yada, yada, yada…

Second, there will be no sequel… at all, so don’t ask!

Third, I own nothing except my original characters even though there are none in this fic. I also own my plot! So there, now I can’t be sued!

Fourth, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

Finally, thank you for making it this far! All the way to the end! Woot!

*Fai fake whistles*

And so, I bid you adieu.


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